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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, August 29, 1914, LAST EDITION, Image 15',
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Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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THE CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
DICK DOES NOT WRITE
(Copyright, 1914, by the Newspaper Enterprise Association.)
I have not heard one word from
Dick since Aunt Mary and I came
down here. I don't even know where
he is and Oh! I can't tell you how
lonesome I am.
I wish I could get used to that com
placent "Fve-caught-the-car" feeling
with which Dick regards me. It seems
as though he were absolutely sure of
me; that no matter what he does I
will still be loving him and thinking
of him most of the time.
Sometimes I am tempted to tell him
of that little episode with Mr. Sand
ers; I want to shake his security. He
seems to think it is not neccessary
to do anything to keep my love and
I am his and he can keep me or
throw me away as his affections
strengthen or decline, but never by
any possibility does he think that
possibly conditions might arise when
I would tear myself away. '
It would be all right if I could have
he same confidence in him, but 1
cannot He seems so much freer than
I and I do not know at what minute
he will take advantage of his free
dom. Yes, I know he loves me, but one
of the greatest lovers of his time said
most truly that "man's love is of
man's life a thing apart.'
Harry Symone would not confess
that he didnot love Eliene better than
any other woman in the world and
yet that did not keep him from be
f coming the father of twins of which
another woman was the mother.
I thought it was going to be so de
lightful to "belong," but I find I do
not want to "belong" as do one's old
shoes, which are comfortable, but
which one is very sure no one else
wants and consequently one may
leave them outside one's bedroom
door with the calm consciousness
that no one will steal them.
I have written a letter to Dick every
day and put it away in my trunk and
if by any possibility he writes to me
I'll send him the whole of them.
Here comes a messenger boy with
It was from Dick and asked: "What
is the matter? Why don't you write?"
I answered: "Same to you and many
of them." I wonder if that will make
him sit up and take notice that he
has a Avife way down here in a rheu
Mollie wrote me a letter this morn
ing. She says she has lots tol tell
me when I get home. Says her "boss"
is still "trying" her with invitations
to lunches and theaters.
"I said to him yesterday," writes
Mollie. "Would your wife still believe
in these 'trying' measures that you
are putting Into practice every day?
" 'My wife would believe in every
thing that I might tell her,' he an-
A good many clever women are
fools where their husbands are con
cerned,' I observed.
"He simply glared at me. It's a
nice little game we are playing, Mar
gie, and he does not know it yet, but
What Mollie writes worries me not
a little. Not in regard to this "boss,"
because I know he does not appeal to
her at all, but 'when a "boss" comes
that does appeal to .her, will she have
strength to resist?
Sometimes I think Fate plays a big
part in the lives of the virtuous wo
men. It is the untempted woman who is
possessed of all the virtues.
(To Be Continued Monday.)
YES, ARENT THEY?
"Ladies' Summer Dresses